Alone Together
by Lapis.Blue
Summary: LoM. Sometimes you don't have to fall in love with that beautiful stranger you walk past everyday. Maybe you shouldn't label every chance encounter, 'fate'. ::AU::
1. Prologue

A/N: It's been a long time since I've come back to FanFiction. A long, serious, sweeping saga of brave deeds and tragic love triangles this ain't - this story will be less than ten chapters long, and it's just a simple, character-centric AU story. I've used two LoM characters, (one very popular, and the other... well, she doesn't have quite as large a fan base.) but they may be a little OOC, seeing as I'm taking characters from a game that could not get more fantasy-ish, and basing them in today's world. That said, enjoy the story. Reviews are always appreciated.

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**Prologue**

I saw her everyday, but I didn't _notice_ her.

She was either being told off for coming late to class, (and she would always apologise for getting lost, even though we've been at this school for _how long_ now?), or stumbling over own feet and dropping her books all over the floor. Nobody ever stopped to help her.

Everybody knew her. Some of the male morons would hang around the gate when she left for home, purely to leer and hit on her, but she always blushed, and ducked her head down.

She was always so quiet. That's what I remember about her.

The teachers would tell her off for not listening in class, and she would apologise in that small, whisper of a voice. She wouldn't look anyone in the eye, even if you were talking to her. Especially if you were talking to her.

People like that still annoy the hell out of me.

Sometimes I would pass her by in the hallways, on the way to the lockers. I didn't so much as notice her, but her fantastically long, blonde hair that fell all the way down her back. She never wore it loose, usually in a braid or something. I guess I must have had some classes with her, but I didn't see her all that often, because I was barely there.

We never spoke. I didn't even know her name until later, even though if I'd paid more attention I would've. The teachers always called upon her in her class, just to make sure she was still awake. Once I overheard them talking about her. They thought she was retarded or something, because she didn't talk to anyone, and was a slow learner. But I didn't know anything about her, and to be honest, I didn't really care.

All there was to know was that she was always alone.

She had no friends.

Pearl.

* * *

I saw him everyday, but I didn't _notice_ him. 

He was always getting told off by the teachers, the co-ordinators, the principal; even the janitor once. For growing his hair so long that it completely covered one eye. For having a tattoo on his arm. For getting into fights. For talking back. For never paying attention in class, for never _turning up_ to class.

Everybody knew him. The girls giggled when he walked past, but he completely ignored them. The boys didn't want to approach him, and whenever they did, there was always a fight.

He was always silent.  
He didn't show up for class very often, and when he did, he never handed in his homework or did the set class work. He was always being told off, but whenever that happened, he just sat there behind his desk with an incredibly bored look on his face, only saying, "Yeah," and "Whatever," in a monotonous tone, as if he'd heard it all before. If you spoke to him, he turned on you with a scathing glare and those flashing blue eyes of his.

People like that still scare me a bit.

I saw him when I walked to class, just leaning against the wall, absorbed in a book, ignoring the rest of the world. Sometimes during school time, if I glanced outside the window I would see him wandering around in the courtyard, even though I was almost sure that he should be in my class.

We never exchanged any words. I didn't even know his name, though I guess I should've, because the teachers always used it when they told him off. I heard them talking about him once. They thought he was a delinquent, but they couldn't expel him because he still managed to do the absolute minimum in every class so that he just passes. I didn't know much about him, and but that was probably a good thing. I was never told not to speak to strangers, but I wouldn't have known what to say to him anyway.

All I knew was that he's always alone.

He didn't want any friends.

Elazul.


	2. Chapter 1

To start with, I had no idea who she was. It's funny - we'd been in the same school and in the same year level for at least a year, but we still didn't know each other. But that was probably because we both kept to ourselves.

**Chapter 1**

I always take the bus home. Riding the bus is the last daily trial I have to go through that concerns school. The usual delinquents and morons ride back with me - leering guys who smirk my way, as if they've got me all figured out. Giggling chicks who whisper to each other as I walk past, as if I actually give a damn what they think. Oh yeah, my hair is dark green, and I have piercings in my ear, so I'm obviously a rebel, or some wannabe punk. Please. Spare me the stereotyping.

And for God's sake, I do not wear blue contacts. My eyes are naturally that colour.

I always take my time to get to the bus. I'm in no hurry to spend my time with the idiots that are supposed to be my peers. But the bus is particularly crowded today. I glance around, but I can't seem to find a seat anywhere. Dammit. The bus is moving. It takes half an hour to get to my stop. My bag weighs a tonne, and I can't find a seat.

Perfect.

Wait. Near the back of the bus, there's one seat left. Next to that girl who wanders around looking half lost, half stupid, and almost certainly mentally retarded. Who cares? I need a seat.

Even with the bus moving, I make my way down between the cramped seats, avoiding the poorly-concealed attempt to make me trip, easy to spot with the grinning moron's laughing face. Is it that fun to try and make someone's life miserable? But those tactics don't work on me. For me to care about embarrassing myself, first I'd have to care about the opinion of the idiots around me.

I stop in front of the empty seat. The girl is facing away from me, staring out the window, as if the filthy city scenery is the most fascinating thing she's ever seen. I clear my throat, and say gruffly. "Excuse me."

She ignores me.

"Hey!" I say it a little louder, in case she can't hear me. "Do you, uh, mind if I sit here?" I can hear the wolf whistles and whispers coming from the rest of the bus. Idiots. Can't they see this is the only seat left?

She still doesn't respond.

To hell with it. I swing myself into the seat without her permission, and jam my bag into the tiny space between me and the seat in front. I glance at her, but she still doesn't look my way. All I can see is her blonde hair, which trails all the way down her back, and even pools on the seat. I have to check to make sure I'm not sitting on any of it. God, she has a lot of hair.

I sit there uncomfortably as the bus lurches on, uneasy because I know she probably doesn't realise I'm sitting here. That bothers me for some reason, but I can't decide why. Deciding that it's unimportant, I reach down to my bag, just to retrieve a book.

Obviously my sudden movement catches her eye, because she utters a small squeak and almost jumps in her chair. She turns around to face me, and her sudden movement catches me off guard too. I involuntarily back off a little, but for the first time I get a proper look at her face. Now I can see why she didn't hear me. She's listening to a Discman - an old model, by the looks of it. She blushes when she sees me, and for some reason I flush a little too. "I, uh… I did ask if this seat was free," I explain gruffly. "You just didn't hear me. I'm sorry."

The girl just looks at me, her gaze a little vacant, in my opinion. "Okay…" she says it really softly, and I have to strain to hear her over the noise of the other rowdy passengers. After that two-syllable response, she just turns away again, and resumes looking out the window. I continue watching her for a moment, then turn back to my book.

That was all.

We didn't exchange another word the whole bus trip.

* * *

I try not to take the bus home. I… I don't like the crowds. And there are always a lot on the bus, all people from my school. I used to walk home, but my parents don't like me doing it. They tell me it's not safe, but I think it's even less on this bus. Maybe there might be strangers who want to hurt me on the streets, but on the bus there are unfriendly classmates who I _know_ don't like me. I'm not really sure why they always pick on me… I guess I must have, um… a quality or something. Maybe it's because I'm not very smart. But some of the people that tease me aren't that smart either, I think… 

But I guess there's nothing I can do about it.

So I sit near the back of the bus, even though that's where the loud, noisy girls sit. I can stand the girls giggling behind my back, but I can't stand the boys near the front teasing me. I'm kind of hopeless in situations like that.

I can just listen to some music, and pretend they aren't there. Classical music. It just sounds so pretty. Or maybe it just seems beautiful, against the gloomy backdrop of this grey, industrialised city.

_Revolution._ Pounding piano floods my ears, and takes up all the thoughts I have left wandering around. It's so beautiful. Moving. It expresses so much emotion, and completely absorbs my attention.

I can close my eyes, and allow myself to be lost in the breathtaking melody. I can pretend I'm somewhere else… What! A flash of movement in the corner of my eye. I snap my head around, and find myself staring into startlingly blue eyes - or really, blue eye, because the boy's left eye is covered by his long hair. He jerks back a little at the sight of me, and I blush, averting my eyes. He's saying something, but I can't hear him through the music. All I hear are his last words, which are said during a lull in the piano concerto. "…I'm sorry." I stare at him, but I'm not sure what to say. I wish I could ask him to repeat what he just said, but I can't put together the words.

"Okay…" I finally say softly, and then look away, back to the window. I don't know what else to say. I really wish I had heard what he was saying to me. Why did he apologise? Why did he sit next to me? I mute the sound on the CD-player, and try to imagine what he might have been saying. _This is the only seat left, I had to sit here. I'm sorry._ I guess it must have been something like that. I stew over that for a moment, then wonder if that's his real eye colour. I wonder if he's the same age as me.

…I wonder, is this fate?

Then, I wonder if I'm making too big a deal about this.

Probably.

I guess I must get off the bus before he does, because fifteen minutes into the journey, the bus stops where I get off. I stand up awkwardly, and he gives me a brief flash of his blue eyes, folding up his long legs to let me past, before turning back to whatever book he was engrossed in.

We didn't exchange a single word. And when I looked back at him just before I left the bus, he was still immersed in his book.

He didn't glance my way at all.


	3. Chapter 2

I didn't see the girl for the next couple of days, but to honest, I had already forgotten about her before the bus pulled in at my stop. The next time I saw her, and the first time I really started to notice her, was almost two weeks later.

**Chapter 2**

I had learned my lesson. This time I boarded earlier, being careful to secure myself a seat before the bus completely filled up. Sitting myself down in the bus seat, I dumped my bag in the seat next to mine, making sure that no one might want to sit next to me. There. Problem solved for today.

As the bus starts its journey down the poorly paved road, I hunt around in my bag for the book I'm reading today. I open to the page I was up to, but before I can settle down to read I heard a familiar jerk's voice leering, "Come on, babe. I saved this seat just for you." All jerks sound the same to me. I don't bother looking up. I don't need to watch the resident blockhead hit on whatever waify girl he's decided to target today.

"Where else are you going to sit? Be reasonable, gorgeous. Don't you wanna sit in my lap?" I look up this time, just to tell the perverted bastard just to shut the hell up, but I stop when I see the object of his lust.

It's that girl.

This time it's her without a seat. Not that there are none left, but the only ones available are with that moron and his friends.

I glance at the vacant seat next to mine, and try to tell myself that it doesn't matter. None of my business. But do I really want to subject the poor girl to a bus trip with someone else's hands halfway up her thighs?

I watch the pitiful scene for a little while. The girl, torn between indecision and fear, looks away from her predators and covers her legs with her bag. The rowdy idiots that surround her grope and jeer. For a moment she catches my eye, but before I can be sure it's me she's looking at, she turns away again, biting her lip, squeaking when a guy yanks at her skirt.

I can't let this happen. Even if it _is_ none of my business. "Hey!" I find my voice at last. "Cut it out!" I glare at her tormentors, but they predictably completely ignore me. Fine. There's more than one way to skin a fish.

"Hey. Girl. Goldilocks!" I don't know her name, but I still get her attention. She looks at me, almost quizzically, a little fearful and wary. Could she just grow a backbone? I take my bag from the seat next to mine and jerk my head at it.

She just stares. What is she, mentally impaired?

"Sit here." I spell it out for her. Immediately I get the predicted reaction from the monkeys on the bus, hollering and grinning. Oh yeah, I ask her to sit next to me, so she's obviously my girlfriend. I rescue her from a bunch of horny teenagers, so I must obviously have an ulterior motive. Everything about them annoys the hell out of me.

She obviously decides that sitting next to me is better than being a sitting duck for sexual predators. As she sits, I see her carefully scoop her ridiculously long hair out of the way, letting it amass on her lap.

"Your hair's so long," I mutter, glancing back to my book.

She lowers her eyes, blushing. "I like it that way," she says softly. Everything about her is apologetically soft and gentle. I can't decide if it annoys me or not.

The bus moves on, and she gets out her Discman, closing her eyes and leaning back in her seat. So she's not going to talk to me. Good. I can return to my book in peace.

Ten minutes into the journey, I can't help it. It feels so weird to be reading with someone next to me. I glance at her, and to my disconcertion, I find that she's reading over my shoulder. "What?" I utter the word sharper than I meant to.

The girl quickly looks away, then shyly back at me, blushing as she does so. "Oh, I-I'm sorry," she whispers. She looks away again. She's too shy. But what do I care? I turn back to my book, but I can't stop myself from glancing her way every so often. One time she catches me staring at her, and again, she blushes profusely and apologises in her muted whisper of a voice.

"Don't apologise. I hate it when people say sorry for no reason," Again, I'm too sharp with my words. I wouldn't care with most people, but she just seems so frail, so soft. It's like I could break her if I was too harsh. She just nods her head mutely, clasping her hands in her lap, and playing with strands of her long, long hair.

I just cannot get over that hair. It's simply amazing that someone can maintain hair that long. I would never forget her, not with that hair.

But I doubt she remembers me.

* * *

He saved me. I don't think he wanted to, not by the curt, clipped way he ordered me to sit next to him, but he still did it. It… it's nice of him.

But I feel awkward, unsure… I don't know what to do or say to him. I feel clumsy just climbing into the seat he's offered me, and he's watching me with those vivid blue eyes. I can't tell what he's thinking, but I'm sure he's regretting that he asked me to sit here. I almost want to apologise and stand up again, but I guess that would be silly, and I don't want to be ungrateful.

"Your hair's so long," he mutters as I sit down. His blue eyes follow the length of my hair, and I can't tell if he disapproves, or if he's just making conversation. I don't know what to say. I… I don't talk to people very often.

Instead I just look away, a blush spreading across my cheeks. "I like it that way," I whisper. He must think I'm weird, and maybe boring. Well, I think most people do.

But he doesn't say anything else.

He just goes back to reading.

I try to listen to my music, but not even Bach can keep me absorbed while he's sitting next to me. I try not to let him see that I'm looking at him, which is no problem because he's completely engrossed in his book. I look at the title_. The Catcher in the Rye._ I think I have that book on my shelf at home. It's a classic, I think. But I don't know anything about literature.

"What?" His sharp voice conveys irritation and anger, and I instinctively look away. "Oh…" I glance briefly back at him, blushing as I do so. "I-I'm sorry." I apologise quietly.

More silence on his part. He's not talkative, but I'm secretly grateful for that. I wouldn't know what to say. It's awkward enough as it is.

But I can't help but continue stealing glances at him, at his book. One time he catches me, and I apologise hastily. But that only seems to annoy him further. "Don't apologise, I hate it when people say sorry for no reason." His tone is even sharper than before.

I almost apologise for apologising, but that would probably make him angrier still. Instead I just nod slightly, and fiddle with my hair, curling it around my fingers. I don't know what else to do. I don't know what else to say.

This time he breaks the silence. "What are you listening to?" he asks gruffly.

I reach into my bag, and show him the CD case.

He scans the cover, and reads the title out loud. "_Bach - Sonatas and Partitas_," he flips the cover open. "Classical music?" Good guess. But I guess it's kind of obvious with the violin on the front cover. He tosses the case back into my lap, and glances at me. "You listen to that sort of thing?"

"It's beautiful," I find myself needing to defend my one love. "Orchestral music shows so much beauty and emotion, and it sounds so… pretty," I blush, unable to believe that I strung so many words into one sentence.

He just nods. "Yeah…" he looks away from me, leaning back against his seat. "I can understand that. Though I don't listen to much of it myself." he gestures his book at me. "Words can convey beauty and emotion too. At least, good writing can." he opens his book again, glancing at me as he does it. "A lot of people don't read much anymore, especially not classic literature." He snorts. "Idiots."

I don't know what to say at that, so I just look at him.

He seems to be a little uncomfortable under my gaze, because he keeps on talking. "What about you? Do you read?"

I blush, knowing that my answer won't please him. "Uh… I, I… well, I don't read much, actually. I have a lot of books at home, but I… I find them hard to read. I'm sorry." I add the apology at the end because I don't know what else to say, and I don't want to make him hate me.

He's not angry, but he just gives a little shrug, as if he already expected that sort of response. "Don't be. Most people are like that. Besides, I find listening to classical music boring too." He turns back to his book, not caring that he may have mortally offended me with that offhand last remark. I want to argue, tell him all the wonderful things about beautiful music, tell him about the way it can make you feel… and explain that it's not that I find books boring, I just have trouble reading. But I can't find the words, and I don't know what to say.

We don't exchange another word until the bus lurches to a halt in front of my stop. "I, uh, get off here." I tell him apologetically. He shifts his gaze from his book to me, a flash of intense colour as he appraises me with his blue eyes.

"…Bye," he says shortly.

This time when I look back as I leave the bus, he's still looking at me, that unreadable look in his blue eyes. Not for long, and when he sees me looking back, he quickly turns back to his book.

He really does have such pretty eyes. I might only be able to see one, but I'm sure the other one is just as beautiful. I could never forget him, that boy with beautiful eyes.

I wonder if he remembers me?


	4. Chapter 3

I hate to admit it, but on Friday evening when I finally stepped off that bus, I was still thinking about her. By Monday morning, she was _still_ on my mind. I sort of found myself wanting to know more about that girl. I mean, not that I cared _that_ much. But… I didn't even know her name.

**Chapter 3**

For some reason, that girl just randomly inserts herself into my thoughts every so often for the entire weekend. She doesn't linger there for long, it's just a brief appearance. But it happens more than once. Far more than just once. I figure it must be because she does look pretty distinctive, with that hair and all. After all, even if I don't hit on every second female that walks past, I _am_ still a guy, and that girl… well, she's pretty, to say the least.

Whatever the reason, I find myself arriving earlier than usual to school the next Monday - not on purpose, of course. Still, I take the extra time to stop at the school office and flip through last year's yearbook. I want to know her name.

I look carefully, and examine each face of our year level last year, but I don't see her there. Maybe she's a new student. I spend such a long time looking, by the time I'm done, the bell for Form Assembly has already rung. Dammit. But I guess I wasn't planning on attending anyway. I'll show up for first period. English is probably one of the better classes that I take, along with Literature.

"How nice of you to join us today, Elazul." The teacher is politely sarcastic, and she gives me a thin-lipped smile to match her warm welcome.

Shrugging, I dump my books on the desk. "All right, I'm here. Don't make a big thing out of it." I mutter. It's not like I do this _all_ the time. Don't need to give the teachers an excuse to expel me. Besides, it's not like teachers are bad people or anything – Yes, I'm just making their job harder. But not on purpose. It's just sort of a side-effect of my class-skipping.

Great. It looks like today we're doing an essay to prepare for the exams coming up. Didn't I pick a great day turn up to class? I get out my books and make an attempt to look half-interested in the things the teacher is trying to tell us. Though, I'm actually not too concerned about exams. If you don't have high expectations, you won't get disappointed. If I pass, that's enough.

"Pearl? Are you paying attention?" The teacher pauses in her explanation to give a pointed glare at someone sitting somewhere behind me. For once, it isn't me.

"Yes miss," the response is so quiet even I can barely hear it, and though I doubt the teacher caught any of that, she nods, as if the fact that she actually responded is good enough. That's when I know. I turn around sharply in my chair to get a look at the owner of that quiet voice. It's got to be her. What did the teacher call her? _Pearl._

A row back and three seats to the right, she's caught off guard by my sudden stare. I can tell by the way she shrinks back in her chair, her eyes widening. Does she recognise me? I think she does, judging by the way she blushes and looks away. But then again, she probably responds like that whenever any guy looks at her.

Why didn't I notice her in my class before? Probably because I rarely attend. "Hey-" I begin to speak in her direction, but I'm very abruptly interrupted by the teacher.

"Elazul, turn around. You can pick up girls after class." she tells me bluntly.

I turn back to the front as ordered, but not without the predictable giggles from the rest of the class. I roll my eyes at the lot of them, and prop my chin in my hand, the facsimile of boredom.

I don't look at the girl for the rest of the class. When the bell rings, I'm the first one out the door. I do consider waiting for her, but I first have to rationalise it to myself. Why _should_ I wait for her? I don't know who she is, I don't know anything about her, and from the little I _do_ know, she's probably going to one of those hopeless, damsel-like people that I can't stand. Furthermore-

"Excuse me?" I nearly jump at her voice, and to my mortification I realise that I've spent so long musing over whether to wait for her or not, she's already come out.

I lean against the wall in an attempt to look nonchalant, (I'm not trying to look cool in front of her, I just don't want her to think that I have nothing better to do with my time than wait for perfect strangers.) and nod at her curtly. "What." I say it flatly, like a statement. I don't _want_ to look at her, but again that hair catches my eye. Today it's tied back into a loose low ponytail.

She blushes, as I've seen her do so often now, and opens her palm to show me a pen. "Um, you left this behind…"

I look at the offering, then up at her, my gaze not quite friendly. "How do you know it's mine?"

She hesitates, and lowers her eyelashes, looking at the ground with a blush staining her cheeks and a stammer edging her voice. "Uh, well… I, I found it on your desk…" she looks up at me and bites her lip. "I… well, I thought…" she ducks her head down again and withdraws the gift. "I'm sorry…"

"Wait!" I grab her wrist instinctively to stop her from walking away. It's the first time I've ever touched her, and I can feel her flinch. "I-I…" I'm obviously an idiot. I shrug, and withdraw back into my comfort zone, releasing her wrist. "No, _I'm_ sorry. That is mine. I was just…" Being difficult. I shake my head and take the pen. "Thanks."

She bites her lip again, and nods, not looking up at me. But I can't let her go just yet. "Wait!" I call after her again, just as she's beginning to turn away. She stops again, this time a little anxious. She glances up at me. Why does she seem so fearful all the time?

"Do you know my name?" I blurt out the question without thinking. Somehow, it's important to me that she knows who I am.

She looks at me, and when the silence stretches on for more than a few seconds I begin to regret asking. After a few moments of that vague, unfocused gaze, she says softly, "Elazul…"

My name had never sounded so alluring as it did then, coming from her lips.

* * *

I knew it was him from the moment he walked into the classroom. He was late as usual. Isn't it strange how you can notice someone, without noticing who they are? The teacher told him off, but she didn't put much effort into it. I think she's given up on him. He's just sat down, behind a desk about a row ahead of me. I can't see his eyes from here, but I can see his hair, dark and just a little too long, tickling the nape of his neck. 

It's him. It has to be him. The boy from the bus. The boy with blue eyes.

"Pearl? Are you paying attention?" I've been staring at his back too intently. The teacher gives me a disapproving look, and I blush and look down at my desk.

"Yes miss," I whisper. What she's saying is important, I know. Our exams are only two months away, so I have to be studying as much as I can. I know my parents want me to do well, and I have to work really hard so that I can get into a good university. But English isn't really my strong point. I should really be listening to the teacher, not looking at-

He's looking at me!

Those blue eyes are unmistakable, and they're directed right at me! His expression is a little surprised, as if he didn't expect to see me here. I guess that must mean he recognises me, right? I think he's talking to me when he begins with "Hey-", but I guess I'll never know, because at that moment the teacher interrupts.

"Elazul, turn around. You can pick up girls after class," she tells him in a matter-of-fact tone. _Elazul._ What a… pretty name. The whole class breaks into sniggers, but he just sort of glares, and turns around to face the front again.

He doesn't look at me again for the entire lesson. And when the bell rings, he's the first one out the door, even before the teacher finishes writing our homework on the board.

What did I expect?

I can't help give on last lingering glance to Elazul's table, but when I do, I find that he's left something behind. Nothing romantic or personal like a love letter, or a journal, (I can't really imagine him owning something like that anyway) just a pen. He must have been in such a hurry to leave class, he didn't pack his things up properly.

I debate whether I should return it to him or not. I mean, I should, because it's the right thing to do, but I… I don't really like talking to people, and besides, he's probably already long gone.

"Pearl? Is something wrong?" I've deliberated over this for so long on this my teacher is beginning to worry about me.

"N-no miss," I mumble hastily, then before I can think about it, I pick up his pen and scurry out the classroom.

I can't believe I'm making such a big deal about this.

To my surprise I find him right outside the classroom. Doesn't he have another class to go to? Perhaps he's planning on just not going. He seems to be thoughtful, pondering on something. I hate to interrupt, but… seeing as he's already here I should return his property to him while I still have a chance. Right? "Excuse me?" I say it just softly, but he still visibly jerks out of his reverie, and casts his blue eyes on me.

He slouches against the wall and glances my way. "What." he says gruffly.

I blush, and open my hand to give him the pen. "Um, you left this behind…"

He glances at it, then stares at me, his gaze bored, suspicious and unfriendly. "How do you know it's mine?"

I don't really know what to say to this. I hadn't really thought he would argue about it; I thought he'd just take it and go. But now he's questioning me, and I have to give him an answer. "Uh, well… I, I found it on your desk…" I risk a glance at him, and find him glaring at me with the full impact of his intense eyes. "I'm sorry…" I'm beginning to regret doing this, and I start to withdraw my hand, but before I can, his hand flashes forward and snatches my wrist. It's the first time he's ever touched me, and I can feel power in his grip.

"Wait!" his voice is uncharacteristically distressed, and he hesitates. "I-I…" his grasp slackens, and he lets go of me. He leans back again, folding his arms. He looks at me, and mutters, "No… I'm sorry. That _is_ mine. I was just…" he shakes his heads and doesn't finish the sentence. "Thanks." he takes it with a brief look in my eyes.

Now that my duty is done, I feel awkward just standing here. I don't know what to say to him. I begin to leave, but again he asks me to wait. I stop, but I'm beginning to wonder what he wants with me.

"Do you know my name?" The question is so sudden, and so unrelated, my mind goes blank for a few seconds. He's watching me with growing unease as my mind remains frozen. But I do know, I remember it… It's…

"Elazul…" I manage to get it out. I look up at him shyly, and he seems slightly stunned that I would know it. "Do you know mine?" I ask, in a burst of initiative.

He looks sharply at me, but his answer is hesitant. "…Pearl?"

The way he said it, from his mouth, in his voice - my name sounded… beautiful.

Neither of us knew what to do after that meaningless, yet strangely personal moment. We just looked at each other, though I didn't feel as acutely awkward as I usually do in situations like this. I think he was about to say something, but-

The bell rings.

We were late to class.

That seems to be his cue to leave. He glances at his watch, then back at me. Then he gives me a small shrug, and his lips twitch in a way that could almost be interpreted as a smile. And walks away, down the hallway, out of my life.

Or so I thought.


	5. Chapter 4

I must confess, I thought about that girl - I mean, _Pearl_, quite often after that encounter. She just happened to be on my mind a lot, and I couldn't figure out why. That annoyed the hell out of me, because I just couldn't justify it. I needed a reason. She was on my mind, and I wanted to know why. That's the only excuse I have for what happened next.

**Chapter 4**

As I walk to school the next day, I make an active choice to find out more about this… Pearl person. I do a brief rundown of what I know about her: She's shy, blushes and apologises too often, and likes classical music. Wonderful. Wouldn't just be easier to ignore her, and get on with my life? I mean, I seriously doubt that we're destined to fall in love, or some romantic rubbish like that. She's just like any other person.

Yet there's something about her that I can't ignore. She's not flashy and self-confident like the other girls. She doesn't keep up with the fashions or anything, and the school uniform looks shapeless and plain on her. She's pretty, I guess, but she doesn't seem aware of it. I just can't explain. Of course, I don't believe in love at first sight. Okay, so I happened to run into her a couple times. That doesn't make it fate. But I do know there's something about her that makes me want to know more.

When the bell for recess goes, I lean against the courtyard walls, and wait for her to leave class. There she is, making her way to her locker. She takes small, timid steps, lost in the crowd easily. While all the other dimwits go hang out by the fence to act coy and bat their eyelids, or try out their macho posturising with each another, she sits by herself, under a tree, eating a snack and listening to music.

Time to make my move.

"Can I sit here?" She looks up, and seems surprised (and to my exasperation, a little fearful) to see me standing there. She doesn't say anything. The silence begins to stretch on, and I'm starting to feel uncomfortable. "I mean here, under this tree, next to you," Do I need to spell out everything for her?

She blinks, and looks away. "I… I knew what you meant." she says softly. "I just…" she shakes her head and blushes. "I'm sorry. Go ahead…"

With her permission, I settle down on the grass next to her. I do have a book with me, but I don't take it out just yet. I glance at her, and find her looking at me, with open curiosity and apprehension. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you or anything." I say gruffly. "Look, if you want me to, I'll leave. Is that it?"

She shakes her head and bites her lip, but at least she doesn't look away or blush. "No… it's just that…" she smiles tentatively. "People don't talk to me," she tells in her soft voice, as if that's just a given.

I snort. "Yeah well, me neither, so we're two of a kind." I lean back against the tree and open my book at a random page. I don't even think I've read up to here. It's just to give me something to do.

"How come you never come to class?" Her question is uttered so softly I can barely hear it. I look at her, and she flinches back. "I mean, not that… it's none of my business, but…" she stops, and lowers her eyes. "Um, are you angry at me…?"

I scowl in annoyance, but not for the reasons she's thinking. "I don't get angry_ that_ easily. It's a legitimate question. Don't apologise for being curious," I add when I see her open her mouth, no doubt to tell me she's sorry. I close my book, and look down at it. "You're right. I don't come to class that often. It's just because…" I shrug. "I don't see the point."

"What about this year's exams? And finals next year? And University?" her voice is getting a little stronger. Maybe she's over the fact that a perfect stranger is talking to her. "Aren't you worried about your future?"

I shrug again. "Look, in this small town it doesn't matter how good a score you get, or what University you go to. There's no future for anyone here. So why bother?"

She's silent for a while at that, but then she says softly. "I think it matters. If I don't get a good job, my… my parents wouldn't be happy." I'm about to tell her that maybe there's more to life than pleasing your parents, but she continues, "And also, I don't want to live with them forever." She gives a tiny shrug. "It's… It's a scary thought, when I try to imagine myself leaving home and starting my own life…" she stares out into space with a wistful smile on her face. "But… it'll happen one day, I guess. Staying with my parents until I'm old would be even worse."

She blushes, as if she can't believe she just told me all that. She's so shy, just sitting there with her knees curled up to her chest, biting her lip and staring blankly at the ground. It's… endearing. You might say.

"Elazul?" she softly says my name, and I realise I've been staring. Caught out, I clear my throat and look away. "Yeah, I guess so." I say gruffly. Somehow I just can't see Pearl with her own house, getting a job and living independently. Doesn't suit her. Then I try to imagine myself in the same scenario, and have trouble seeing that too. I guess I haven't really been thinking about my future that much.

"It must be nice…" she leans back against the tree, headphones in her ears. I wait, but she doesn't finish the thought.

"What?" I ask finally, when it becomes clear that she's not going to finish her sentence. She looks at me blankly, and I can't help but feel a little exasperated, though amused, at her cluelessness. "You were saying something?" I prompt. "You said, 'It must be nice…'"

"Oh," she smiles at me sweetly. "It must be nice not to have to worry about the future. Like you."

"Me?" I'm caught off guard at that. "What are you talking about?"

She shrugs, and smiles again. She seems so much less timid and shy when she's been talking for a while. "You just don't seem all that worried. I guess it's because you're smart…"

"Smart?" No one's ever accused me of that before. "I'm failing almost all my classes!"

She nods, and I notice her press the 'stop' button on her Discman. "But that's because you want to." She takes the headphones out, and lays them in her lap. "You're failing because you don't want to try," she looks back out into the distance. "…I'm doing okay, but I'm still worried about passing, even though I… I do my best," Again, she shows me that small, sweet smile. "But I think if you wanted to, you would do really well in school."

"That's a big judgement to make about someone you barely know," I mutter, not looking at her. As soon as I say it, I can feel the distance between us grow again. Something about her shrinks, and she lowers her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she says softly. There's silence, and she bites her lip and folds her hands in her lap, before turning on her music again. Deciding this conversation is over, I turn to my book.

The silence between us grows, but somehow it doesn't feel all that uncomfortable. Besides, I'm not thinking about that right now. What a strange idea… I'm failing every class… because I want to? I guess it's true… _There's no reason for me to study,_ I remind myself. _I don't care if I'm doing badly._ But still, something feels wrong about failing… when I could actually do well. Even if I don't have a reason to achieve. But do I need a reason for everything? If that's true, then why am I sitting here, next to this girl?

* * *

After yesterday, I did think about that boy - I mean, _Elazul_, quite often. But I was very sure I wasn't on his mind in that same way. I guess it's not very realistic to call every chance encounter, 'fate'. It would be silly to think of him like we were destined to be with each other. He was just like any other boy. Despite all that, I still wanted to know more about him – even though I knew I could never talk to him. There was simply no way I would ever get to know him any better.

That was why I thought it was strange when he asked if he could sit next to me. It was so unexpected, I didn't know what to say. I think he got impatient with me when I didn't respond immediately, but he sat there anyway.

I was happy, but also apprehensive. Would we sit the whole of recess in silence? But maybe that would be better than awkward conversation. Yes, I think so. So I was just surprised as he was when I was the first one to open my mouth, and asked without thinking, why he never came to class.

"It's just because… I don't see the point," he shrugs. As if that really explains it. No point? There must be! Or… they wouldn't make us come to school, right? What about exams? Finals? University? Don't we need to go through all these - or at least the majority, if we want to get somewhere in life?

He stares at me, as if he is hearing all of this for the first time. I thought that parents and teachers had been telling us this all our lives. I guess I _did_ move to this school only at the beginning of the year, but I'm sure it's the same anywhere.

I'm going to move out one day, I tell him. I won't be living with my parents forever. It's… unusual for me to say so many words at one time, but it doesn't feel so weird with him.

He just looks at me, like he doesn't know what to say, and I notice an unreadable look on his face. "Elazul?" I prod him with his name tentatively.

He visibly jolts out of it, looking away and clearing his throat. "Yeah, I guess." he agrees gruffly. I wonder if that's what he really thinks, or if he's just agreeing to humour me. Then I wonder if he has to worry about his future at all. I can't imagine him living with parents. Maybe even now, while still in school, he lives by himself. He seems the type of person who could do that. "It must be nice…" I whisper to myself.

"What?" His voice, grudgingly curious, stops me from getting lost in my music again. For a moment I don't know what he's talking about, but then I realise that I said my thought out loud. I'm not used to being with people.

"Oh," I smile at him tentatively. "It must be nice not to have to worry about the future. Like you,"

He seems surprised at this admission, and I explain, "You just don't seem all that worried. I guess it's because you're so smart…" I said that last part without thinking, but now that I have, I begin to realise how true it is. He never comes to class, yet he still manages to pass. He does less than the minimum work, but he's still managing to keep up with the rest of the class. He protests against my compliment, and I try to explain it to him, the way I see it. "You're failing because you don't want to try. …I'm doing okay, but I'm still worrying about passing, even though I… I do my best. But I think, if you wanted to, you could do really well in school." As I say it, I can't help but feel the truth in it. I think… I think I might be right.

But he frowns, and says, "That's a big judgement to be making about someone you barely know."

Admonished at once, I bite my lip and look away. What am I saying? He's absolutely right. It's definitely not my place to be making judgements about him. Where did all these words come from? Usually I don't know what to say. And now that I have actually said something, I've made him angry at me. "I'm sorry," I say softly.

He doesn't respond, and the air between us is still. But despite the fact that we've just had something that could almost be called an disagreement, I still don't feel all that awkward or uncomfortable. In fact, with the music playing, and the boy sitting next to me, I even dare to sneak a look at him. He's completely relaxed, leaning against the tree, one knee propped up in front of him so he can rest his book against it. I look at the header. He's on page 97 in the book _Sons and Lovers_ by DH Lawrence.

I look at the words, but the text is small, and I don't want him to get angry at me for reading over his shoulder. So instead I listen to my music - _Piano Sonata No. 17_ by _Beethoven._ And this time, it's him that starts the conversation up again.

"Do you ever wear your hair out?" He's looking at my hair, and then at me. The question is so far away from our last conversation piece that, again, I am momentarily at a loss for words.

Self-consciously, I pull my loosely braided hair towards myself, and try to construct a legible answer. Such a simple question. Why can't I ever get my thoughts together? "…I don't think so…" I say softly. I look up at him, but his expression is unreadable, though there is a faint blush on his pale cheeks. "Do you think I should…?"

He shrugs, and looks away from me, though I think that blush might be spreading. "It's up to you," he says shortly. He glances back at it, his eyes following the full length of it appraisingly. "Though…" he shrugs again, a little self-consciously. "I think you should."

"I think you should cut your hair," The words are out of my mouth before I realise they're even in my head. He stares at me, and I blush, unable to believe I said something like that straight and flat out. "I mean… just the front part. Where it covers your eyes." He's still looking at me with that one visible blue eye, like he doesn't know how to respond. "Because…" I smile a little foolishly. "Um, you have nice eyes, you know. You shouldn't hide them." I hope he's not angry with me for saying that.

He looks at me for a lengthy moment more, and then says finally, "Thanks."

Then he goes back to his book, and I go back to my music, and we don't exchange another word for all of recess.

I thought that might have been a one-off thing, but at lunchtime, it's the same. He gruffly asks me if he can sit here, and I nod, looking at the ground. Our conversations are stilted, and sometimes end abruptly, but for some reason it's not awkward at all.

I think I don't mind this…

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the delay in updates. I said one week, and I meant it. Review replies at lapisblue.tk, as they will be from now on. Leave a review if you liked the chapter; I like to know what works and what doesn't. 


	6. Chapter 5

It wasn't a one-off thing. The only explanation I can offer, is that I suddenly came to a conclusion during forth period (skipped Physics), while loitering under that same tree. I actually did not mind being with her. Pearl's presence was just… inoffensive. The feeling of having someone there was pleasant, yet I didn't need to suffer through attempted flirting, or even a conversation, which, in my experience, is usually what happens when I'm with women.

Pearl and I didn't talk all the time. Sometimes we just sat under that tree in silence, doing our own thing. When we did have a conversation, they didn't always last long. Even so, when the last word had been said, there was an easy silence between us. We didn't need to talk just for the sake of talking.

In the next few weeks, the most eventful things that happened were the occasional sneer from one of the idiots who thought it was just hilarious that we were spending time together, even though that's all it was. I guess the day that began to change was two weeks before the exams. That's when I started to get… involved.

**Chapter 5**

"Um, hi Elazul," She always greets me with that sweet, shy smile. I nod briefly, and take my usual spot next to her under the tree. Lunchtime. I don't ever buy lunch, or bring it from home. Pearl once offered (albeit softly, with a blush on her face) to bring me lunch, but I thought that would be too weird. It isn't like we were married or anything. We just happen to sit in the same place everyday. That's all.

There is the customary silence between us for a moment after I sat down, giving me the chance to open my latest novel and a few pages of _A Tale of Two Cities_ by Charles Dickens before she interrupts quite suddenly, "You came to Maths class today,"

I look sharply at her. "Well, yeah. We had a practice exam on, remember?" Pearl and I have English and Maths class together. That's it. Everything else is our own electives, and we had both chosen completely different subjects.

She nods, and looks dreamily out into space. "Yes, I know, but… sometimes you don't come, even if we have a test or something." She gives me a small smile. "It was nice to see you there…"

I don't know how to respond to that. "Well…" I shrug. It _is_ kind of rare for me to show up to class. "How do you think you went?" I'm not asking because I actually want to know, it's just something to say.

She bites her lip. "Um… I think I failed," she gives a small shrug, and folds her fingers together in her lap. "Maths isn't really my strong point…"

I think remember her saying that about English once. What _is_ her strong point? "But that wasn't even a hard exam!" I point out. "We've been learning that stuff all year!" I'm not even in class all the time, and I still know that.

She looks a little abashed. "I… I don't think I'm very smart, that's why…" she says it so ruefully, so plainly, as if it's just a given that she is an idiot. "I mean, I study and everything, I'm just not good…" She leaves the thought unfinished and shrugs again, indicating that she's finished with this topic. She goes back to her music, but I can't turn back to my book just yet. For some reason, this actually bothers me.

"Want me to help?" she looks at me, her face slightly anxious and confused, like she can't figure out what I'm talking about, even though we were just discussing it - something that always annoys me, yet makes me smile - _half_-smile inside. "I mean, do you want to study together or something? For Maths." I add, just to make things clear.

She tilts her head to the right, biting her lip. "…Now?"

"Of course not!" I roll my eyes. At lunch time? No! "In class!"

"But… but, you don't always come to class, I don't want to, um, inconvenience you. And the teacher will be teaching us…"

"Nonsense." I waved her hesitant misgivings away with a flick of my hand. "I'll come to class if you want me to. And if you can't understand what the teacher taught us before, how can you expect to understand the more advanced things she's teaching us now?" I shrug. "Besides, with only two weeks to go until exams, all we'll be doing is revision."

"You'll come if I want you to…?" Pearl says it slowly, like she's unsure of the words. Then without warning she gives me a bright smile, and throws her arms around me. I almost instinctively throw her off; I'm so unused to human contact like this. I don't even let my mother hug me in this way. "Thank you Elazul!" she whispers.

"Take it easy!" I'm more unsettled by this than I'd like to admit, and I almost yank her back from me at arms' length. "Look, I'm happy to help you, okay?" I snap, trying to ignore the blush sneaking its way up my cheeks. "Just don't make a big thing about it."

She nods obediently, and sits back from me. "What about your other classes?"

What about them? "I'll go if I feel like it," I say shortly. I see her lower her eyes, and add, "Except for English. I'll come for that too, if that's what you want,"

She bestows her bright smile on me again. "Yes. I do want it." In some dark corner of me, it makes happy to see her smile like this, even if she doesn't try and jump me again.

Why am I disappointed?

* * *

Elazul has become my… my friend, I think that's the word for it. Or at least, I think so. He asks if he can sit with me (though he must know that my answer is always the same), and I think he's attending class (or at least, the classes I have with him) a lot more. 

"Elazul! This _is _a surprise!" Our teacher exaggerates his shock, widening his eyes and dropping his jaw in a caricature of amazement. "I do believe I've seen you here for more than two lessons in a row!" Our Maths teacher is always melodramatic like that. I want to giggle, but I don't think Elazul is amused.

I was right. Elazul only smiles dourly. "Yeah, yeah," He mutters, dumping his books on my desk. "Yes. I'm here. Don't make a big thing about it."

But of course, the teacher _does_ make a big thing about it. "Everybody! Please, could we have some applause for Elazul here? He has chosen to grace us with his company for the third time this week." The class looks up confused, and when they get the joke, break into clapping and cheering, grinning in Elazul's direction. But somehow I get the feeling that they're not mocking him.

Elazul gives me an evil look with his one visible eye. _'See the things I have to put up with for you?'_ and our teacher picks up on that too. "Let's also have a cheer for this lovely lady Pearl, who is quite possibly the reason for Elazul's presence!" There's some giggling now, and more friendly applause, as well as a couple wolf whistles from the boys, though Elazul's icy glare of warning quickly shuts them up. I really feel safe… with Elazul here. Now that I'm more used to being with people, I can sort of see that maybe this whole time they weren't being mean to me, as I thought. Maybe they were just being friendly… but I was too shy to notice it.

I'm not the only one blushing. Elazul hangs his head for a moment, covering his eyes with his hand. Finally, in a low voice he says. "Fine. Let's start. What do you need help in?"

"Ah, teaching each other, are we? How nice," Our Maths teacher interrupts him, standing between us in front of the desk we're sharing. He looks at Elazul. "No hard feelings, I hope. I wasn't trying to poke fun at you two."

Elazul shrugs and folds his arms. "Whatever. I don't care." He says shortly.

The teacher nods. "Good. Besides, you two are a cute couple," Elazul looks up sharply at that, and I blush, looking down at the table. "You're good for each other. It really warms my heart to see the two of you together like this," he gives us an impish smile, and walks on.

Elazul stares after him, a blush staining his cheeks again, though he tries to hide it. "He's our teacher!" he mutters. "Is he allowed to talk to us like that?" I almost bite my lip, but not because I'm anxious, because I have to stop myself from giggling. "We've been hanging out together for not even a month. Why does everyone assume that we must be a-" he looks up, stopping abruptly when he sees my shyly amused smile. Definitely blushing now, he looks away and clears his throat. "Never mind. Let's just get to work."

I… I think I like him.

Over the next few days, Elazul keeps his promise. He turns up for every Maths and English class, and spends all his time patiently tutoring me. It's… it's really nice of him.

"So, Pearl. If you add up all the angles in any triangle, how many degrees do you have?" He looks at me across the desk, patiently waiting for my answer.

"Um… three hundred and… forty…" I guess hesitantly.

"_No!_" He throws up his hands with impatience. "You're thinking of a quadrilateral - a four-sided shape," he translates when he sees my blank look. "And they have three hundred and sixty degrees." He puts his fingers over his face in despair. "For Christ's sake, Pearl. We've been learning this since like, year five. He leans forward and lifts my chin with his hand, looking me in the eyes intently. "Repeat after me, Pearl. A triangle's angles all add up to one hundred and eighty degrees."

I flush, seeing those blue eyes (well really, blue_ eye_, since his hair is so long) right up close like that, but stammeringly do as he commands me.

"Good." he mutters. He sits back in his chair, massaging his forehead. "God, Pearl. Teaching you is like running around in circles - and repeatedly falling into the same pit hole."

I bite my lip. "I'm sor-"

"Don't apologise for everything! That makes it worse!" He sounds angry, but now I know from experience that most of the time when he's angry, he's not _really_ that mad, he just sounds that way. Besides, if he really was mad at me, I guess he wouldn't scrape his chair back in, sigh, and begin to explain the finer points of trigonometry to me.

You know… I really do think I like him.


	7. Chapter 6

Something was beginning to feel very strange about this. At first I thought I was tutoring her because she obviously needed it, but as the days went by, I realised something important. I was actually _enjoying _this. I just… liked having someone who depended on me. Not in a sick, sadistic way – it wasn't as if I had any power over her or anything, I just liked knowing that someone cared whether I was alive or not.

I like her.

There. I admitted it.

But I didn't realise it until the first day of exams. That was when I really got to see her let her hair down. Literally.

**Chapter 6**

"Your hair." I blurt it out before I can even go through the formality of asking her if I may sit with her for this recess.

She looks up at me shyly from her sitting place on the grass. "Um… yeah… I wore it out today," she says softly. "Do you like it?" I can't help but stare for a moment. Every time I've seen Pearl, she's always had her hair tied back, or braided, or pulled into a loose, messy bun. This is like seeing her for the very first time.

"Stand up," I order. She does as bid, and I can't help but watch with fascination as her insanely long hair ripples down her back as she stands. "God," I mutter. "Your hair is just so… long." I sit down, and she joins me, making sure not to sit on her own hair. "Why did you wear it out today?" It's not like I actually care, I'm just… making friendly conversation. Right?

She blushes, and curls a strand around her fingers. "Um, well… today we had our exams right?" Hmm? Oh yeah, we did. Literature for me, a Music Prac for her, and Maths for both of us. Easy. Obviously all those hours spent coaching Pearl were good for me too.

"What about it?" I lean against the wall. Frances Hodgson Burnett's _The Secret Garden_ is in my lap, but I don't bother opening it. I still bring a book to school everyday, but I don't read so much anymore.

"It's a present for you," she smiles sweetly at me. That catches me off guard. What? "I mean, for helping me in Maths," she explains, when she sees my blank look. "I… I know you want me to wear my hair down, but I never do… I thought maybe I should let it loose today, for you."

I really have no idea what to say to that. "Thanks," is all that I can manage. We sit in comfortable silence for a while, and then I ask, "So, how did you go? On the Maths exam," I add, anticipating that she may have completely forgotten what we were talking about.

I needn't have worried. "Oh… I think I did okay," she smiles, and… it really makes me feel content, seeing her happy like this. "I could answer a lot more questions than usual. I think I'll pass this time." She rests her head on my shoulder, and though I stiffen up a little, it actually feels very normal. I have to stop myself from running my fingers through her loose hair, though I don't think she would mind. She looks up at me. "What about you?"

I shrug. "Yeah… it wasn't that hard." It may be a little too arrogant to say I might ace it, but you know what? I think I will. And to think that I didn't care about my grades.

She gives me that dreamy, placid smile that I've become so used to seeing. "Now you have to cut your hair," she tells me. What? I frown at her in confusion, but she's not even looking at me. I don't always follow her train of thought, and I've practically given up on understanding it. But she doesn't explain, and it's such a nice sunny day I just feel too lazy to ask.

We spend the rest of lunchtime like that. She leans against my shoulder, and I read _The Secret Garden _to her. I picked that book because I thought she might like it, and though she listens to me attentively, I'm not sure if she's following the story or just listening to my voice. Maybe it doesn't matter.

I think she just likes having me here, with her.

* * *

Today is the day. I made Elazul promise that he wouldn't be late, because I want us to find out our marks together. But… I forgot where they were posting the results, and then I got lost trying to find it… I hope he's still there, waiting for me… 

"Elazul!" He _is_ still there, hands jammed into his pockets, scanning the list of names, even though I'm sure he must have found his results three times over by the time I've finally arrived. He's the only person left, something I'm grateful for. Everyone else must have left a while ago.

He turns around and smiles at me - not a real, full smile, but definitely a smile by Elazul's standards. "Got lost?"

I blush and nod my head. "Um, yes. Sor-" He gives me a look, and I remember how much he hates me apologising for 'no good reason'. "What did you get?" I ask instead.

He shrugs. "That's not important." he jerks his head towards the results. "Take a look at how you went."

I do as he says, and he points out my name for me when I can't find it. "I got a… Elazul! I got a C minus for Maths!" I turn to him with a beaming smile, and throw my arms around him. He flinches, but somehow, I don't think he really minds. "I didn't- I didn't fail! Isn't it-" I stop abruptly, and for the first time, look him in the eyes. _Eyes,_ plural. "You cut your hair!" I breathe.

He looks away from me, a self-conscious blush growing on his pale cheeks. "…Yeah. It's a present. For you."

I widen my eyes, and stare at him. He shrugs uncomfortably and mutters, "You know on the day of our exams? When you wore your hair down? I didn't get what you meant when you said I had to cut my hair, but…" he shrugs again. "Now I know. It's a present for you, because you didn't fail. Congrats."

I blush. But I don't look away, because I don't want to lose this moment, my first-ever view of both of his beautiful eyes. "How did you know I wasn't going to fail?"

He folds his arms and leans against the wall, but turns his head to give me a half smile. "I have faith in you,"

It's such an un-Elazul thing to say, and cutting his hair is such an un-Elazul thing to do, it makes me do something that's un-Pearl as well. "I love you, Elazul!" I hug him tight, burying my head against his chest. Yet he doesn't look completely horrified, and he doesn't push me away.

Instead, he pulls me in tighter, reciprocating my embrace for the first time, and says softly in a tone several notches lower than usual, "I… love you too."

Later, we go to a CD store, and I point out all the various different composers, and play him some musical samples. He nods, shrugs, and gives me one-syllable responses at the appropriate times. I wonder if he's really listening, because he spends more time looking at me than the things I point out, but I guess it doesn't matter.

I think he just likes being here, with me.

* * *

A/N: The story is very quickly coming to a close! When I wrote the story I had two things in mind: just to write a believable ElazulxPearl pairing, (since there don't seem to be that many stories with them) and also to write a realistic progression from two people being perfect strangers to being very close. I'm hoping I managed both, (though I'd love to know what you think, as readers) and as a result, this is almost the end of the story… 


	8. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it, all the trouble I go through with her. She's just so… _hopeless_, though for some reason I don't really mind. She just forgets things all the time, and she's always lost in her own world. She smiles at nothing, and she's far too affectionate with me - _while we're at school_, for God's sake. I guess she doesn't realise that it's… _not_ _socially_ _acceptable_, or something. She just throws her arms around my neck, or around my waist, or rests her head against my shoulder - or my chest. It's nothing like the idiots surrounding us say - we're not lovers or anything, we don't kiss or hold hands, or do any of those things that couples do. Not that I… want to, or anything. Or at least, I'd never admit it. Besides, I don't even think she knows how.

She treats me almost like an older brother, or a really close childhood friend. It's so easy to make her happy - you just have to do something for her - anything. It's like she just needs the reassurance that someone cares about her enough to do stuff like that.

I have this dream… not exactly a fantasy or anything, just an idea. Maybe next year, once we graduate, we could leave home. We could… I don't know, find a place to live together. Go to the same uni. I could get a job, support the both of us, if she wants me to. We could look after each other, something like that. It's just an idea. And wishful thinking on my part, I'm sure. I know the way Pearl is. She wouldn't think of doing something like that in a thousand years.

I… I really care about her, though I still hate admitting it, even to myself. Especially to myself.

Before I knew her, she was just a stranger I saw, but never noticed. Always quiet, just by herself, always alone.

But now I know, I was like that too.

* * *

From time to time I wonder if he regrets being with me, being my friend. He can be grumpy, and he loses his temper quite easily, though I think he never gets really angry at me. Sometimes he'll just turn up to school, and he'll already be in a bad mood. Then I can only expect monosyllable words from him, and if I'm lucky, just a 'Hmph' to my questions. I think he gets uncomfortable when I do things with him sometimes, like hug him, so I know he doesn't want to go any further. Also, he's always so protective of me. If anyone at school ever says anything about me, or even looks at me the wrong way, Elazul always stands up for me, sometimes in quite a violent manner. I think we sort of understand each other a little, at least more than other people do.

He treats me almost like a little sister, or a favourite student. It isn't always easy to tell when he's happy, because he doesn't smile all that often, though I've caught him once or twice. Usually he's smiling because of something I've done. Especially after he's tried to do something nice for me, and I thank him. I think he just likes being needed. He likes having someone who really wants him there, appreciating the things he does.

I have this idea… well, really it's more like a fantasy or a dream. Next year, after finals are over, maybe we could step out into the real world together. We could… live in the same house. Attend the same uni. I could clean the house, and cook for him, if he wants. We could look after each other, something like that. But it's just a dream. And a hopeless fantasy at that, I'm sure. I know the way Elazul is. He would never think of doing something like that, not ever.

I… I really like him, though I'm still not sure of my feelings.

Before I knew him, he was just some person I saw, but never noticed. Always silent, just by himself, always alone.

But I think… I was like that too.

* * *

I think we're both still not certain about what the future holds, but at least we know that we're not entirely alone anymore.

We're alone together.

. :END: .

* * *

A/N: This is the end. I'm so sorry that the last few chapters were updated rather infrequently. Anyway, before this story fades into obscurity, I'd love to hear what you thought of the story as a whole. I know it wasn't perfect, and if you've been following the story at all, I'd love to hear any criticism you might have! Anyway – thanks for reading and giving me feedback – I tend to have a lot of insecurities about my own writing, which is why very little actually gets published. I really appreciate it, and I hope you enjoyed the story. 


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